


In This Life

by ProfessorBanks



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Angst, First persons POV because I need to capture certain moments exactly right, Jon and Daenerys are related, M/M, Mentions of Abortion, Modern AU, Modern Era, Multi, Smut, its kinda what complicates things, the gays are here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 12:56:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17224475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorBanks/pseuds/ProfessorBanks
Summary: Years ago, a dark secret was revealed that devasted and ruined what Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen had. And now, In the present, as she fruitlessly tries to move on and forget, a bombshell is once again bestowed upon her that may very well reek havoc upon her and the life that she has ran through the pain to build.





	1. DAENERYS

**Author's Note:**

> So... this only came about because of my writers block for another fanfic, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my misfortunes nonetheless.

Times like this, when I’m alone, and my thoughts that I’ve repressed so long begin to claw their way out the dark hole I’ve buried them in, I find it hard to not let folly consume me whole. When they catch me doing simple things, like washing the dishes, preparing for a patient in my office, folding clothes, watching television, or like now, as I gaze out the window of my Loft to the blue sky filled with flurry arrays of clouds that I share with my girlfriend, they creep in, unbidden. 

 

There’s a drift of coldness that envelops me, and I wrap my arms tighter around my small frame, hoping to compensate the empty space that resides in me. My grip of the wine glass is flimsy—pressed into my upper rib cage—causing me to remember that I had it in hand, bringing it to me mouth. I often drink more than I like to, more than I should, but I seemingly can’t help my self. I wouldn’t say I have a alcoholism problem, but who’s to say that won’t change in a couple years. It seeps down my throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. 

I feel dainty arms and hands encasing me, but I’m not alarmed because I already know who it is. Her familiar aroma filling my nose, I close my eyes, and I inhale the the scent that I’ve come to associate with the only thing that now brings me peace or a honest smile. I take the glass from my mouth and say, “you’re home early.” 

She removes my long, silvery hair to my right shoulder with her with her right hand, kissing me on the neck, where my skin is exposed. “Yeah, I got off early today.” She then rests her chin there, eyeing the wine glass I have in hand, and I know the next thing to slip from her semi plush lips. “Have you taken your anti depressants today?” 

 

It’s like she can sense when I’m tempting to go off in the deep end, always there to catch my hand before I take that final step. It’s sometimes vexing, but I appreciate her efforts because I know they’re coming from a place of genuine love. “Yes, I have”, I answer, my left fingers rubbing circles on her clasped hands at my waist. She doesn’t question me further because she knows I wouldn’t lie, she knows I hate lying and liars. 

She stamps a wet kiss on my cheek, untangling her limbs from my body, and says, “Good. Gods, I’m so hungry. What do we have to eat?” 

I finish off the rest of the wine, turning to follow in her steps, her heels clanking in protest. She’s wearing black pants that sprout at the leg, with a white dress shirt tucked into them. Stark contrasts to the simplicity of the ragged, black shirt that I’m wearing that’s too big for me. I love wearing baggy clothes when at home, I don’t know why, but it makes me feel as if the void scurries away when I’m wearing them. It’s stupid, I know, yet I won’t ever stop doing it. 

“There’s some left over curry from last night, but we could order from that Volantis place down the street”, I prompt, hefting myself up to sit atop the counter, setting the wine glass beside me before.

She works more than me, but that’s only because I’m an on call OBGYN. Meaning my patients have scheduled doctors appointments during the duration of the pregnancy and when they’re finally in Labor, they call me no matter the time, which is usually sporadic, so I never know when I’m going to be needed. When I first began medical school, I thought I’d loathe that part, but now my insomnia has coaxed me into agreeing. She’s a lawyer at her father’s company. Even though she won’t admit, I know that she wants to branch out on her own. Her father’s pride and her love for him is the hinder. 

She hums in her throat. “Yes, but I have a taste for chocolate covered strawberries”, she says, opening the refrigerator to retrieve the strawberries and milk chocolate bar on the bottom self. 

She gets a pan from the cabinet and turns the knob of the stove on. I order two of their specials from the Volantis restaurant I can never remember the name of and wouldn’t even have the number if it weren’t for the left over container in the refrigerator. 

She cuts the chocolate bar into small portions, placing them into the pan with milk. 

“How was work”, I ask like I do everyday because she’s my girlfriend and she supports me in everything I do so I feel it’s only right that I take interest in what she loves. 

She opens the draw beside the stove to get a wooden spatula. “Meh, same ole same ole. Theon failed miserably to win that golden case. I honestly don’t know why my father even still has him employed”, she stirs the chocolate as it begins to loosen. 

 

“That pervy bloke”, I joke, trying to stir her mind from what I know it is thinking: that her father loves him so because he’s the son he wished he had. Even if he’s just a air headed white man with no outstanding qualities whatsoever. 

“He’s literally the only womanizer I know that doesn’t get pussy because of his looks”, she derides with a chuckle. 

“Oh gods, do you remember that office party where he subtly tried to give me a chest to chest hug to feel my breasts”, I said laughing, hands pushing my breasts up under the baggy black shirt. My somber mood is seemingly dissipating and I relish in the giggles escaping my girlfriends mouth. The mouth that has brought me so much peace and sexual pleasure. The same mouth that whispers encouraging words in my ear. The only mouth that has graced my lips since his. 

She threw her head back in laughter, stirring the chocolate with the wooden spatula. I could see her teeth, her black hair spilling from the messy bun. “Or how awkward it gets when we tongue kiss in front of him.” 

“You’d think he’d come accustomed to seeing two women kiss from the tales of his ‘lovers trysts’”, I mocked, knowing it’s a lie. 

She clicked her mouth. “Please, we both know he’s a egotistical asshole who’s never even probably had the opportunity to see two women kiss before us, let alone seeing one sticking her tongue down another’s clit.”

“Baby!”, I yelp, choking on the wine i just brought to my lips. I don’t even remember when i poured more, but the bottle with the cork missing next to me is evidence enough. 

“What?”, She turned the knob of the stove off, bringing the wooden spatula to her mouth and tasting the now melted chocolate, “we both know I’m telling the truth, babe.” 

She brung the chocolate covered spoon to my mouth and I tasted it willingly. “Gods, why are we even friends with him”, I asked, wiping the chocolate from the side of my mouth, already knowing the answer. 

She leaned the pan sideways, pouring the liquid chocolate into a glass bowl on the counter. “Because my father loves him and he’s like a brother to me. He introduced me to you and-“, she cuts herself off before finishing the sentence, but I already knew what she wouldn’t dare let slip past her lips. The name that hasn’t been spoken aloud by her or me in years. Not because I forbade it or neither because my girlfriend got jealous, but because the name only brought pain and anger. 

Awkward silence fumbles upon us and before my mind can wander to a time where that name brought smiles to my face so wide that it would hurt, I nod my head towards the bowl of chocolate as I saw she was dipping the last strawberry into it with a great deal left. “What are we ever going to do with all that chocolate”, I ask suggestively. 

Her eyebrow quirked up, her lips thinning into a smile once she realized my innuendo. “I have an idea”, she affirmed, coming to stand in between my legs,  
parting them. Her hand dipped under my shirt, immediately coming in contact with my core. She teasingly ran a finger through my slits and my breath hitched. 

She hefted her hand into my hair, bringing my face to clash with her lips, pulling down and biting my lower lip, the pain sending jolts to my core. She was pulling on my t-shirt so I obliged – and took it off, then proceeded to take off her shirt. She left a trail of open-mouth kisses from my mouth to my bellybutton, my moans prompting her for more. I wasn’t wearing panties or a bra, I never do when I’m at home. She pulled down on her black pants and on her panties, all intentions of the strawberries forgot. I brought her back to my mouth, her kisses so intoxicating I couldn’t concentrate on one train of thought. Her hands squeezed my butt, a moan involuntarily passing from my mouth to hers.  
  I have come to love so much about her – not just her body, but her smile, her laugh, her eyes. Things I didn’t find my self paying attention to four years ago. Her left hand travelled back in between my thighs to find me wet and plump and ready.  
   
I was writhing under her ministrations, she softly brushed her fingers against my folds, a mewl encouraging her to explore more, she nudged them apart, her middle finger effortlessly gliding against my skin. My mouth watered in anticipation. I gripped her other forearm with a force she probably never thought possible from such a small person, her other hand clenching around my shoulder, manicured nails engraving half-moons in her skin and I’ve never felt prouder to wear such marks. A hushed “yes” as she started rubbing my clit, gently at first, but picking up in pressure and rhythm – harder and faster and sharper. She pried her eyes from my cunt to look up at me, all disheveled and panting and needy, begging her for more, asking her not to stop, praising her when she hit just the that spot. I was panting and could feel my blood being set aflame, face contorting in rapture. As I felt my body starting to shake under her, she thrust her fingers in me, and I finally broke. I held onto her so tightly that I know she felt every twitch of my body reverberate through her own, my eyes shut tightly, lips parted, incoherent words escaping her. 

Through hooded eyes I laud, “what an idea”, grinning.

We break into fits of laughter, our dewy, clammy bodies sticking to one another. 

There’s a knock at the door, our food has arrived. We eat by the flat-screen TV in the living room and devour the chocolate covered strawberries some time later. We take a shower, fondling one another every so often. We have a his and hers bathroom, which can now be interpreted as a hers and hers. We wash our faces, going through our nightly routine. Once finished, I opened the medicine cabinet once with contempt. 

Her presence drifts off from me and soon enough, like always, I find my self staring at the medicine bottle with disdain. The medicine helps me, but my ire is still placed upon it nonetheless. I find myself remembering a time where I didn’t need man made medicine to placate me in life. My eyes glass over and a tear falls down my porcelain skin. I wish I wasn’t like this. I feel lips on my temple, and I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m crying because she knows all my flaws and she doesn’t make me feel ashamed. She accepts them. She tries to help me better them. 

“It’s okay, baby”, she says so softly with her accent caressing every word. 

I swipe at the tears and nod briskly, my body shuddering. It’ll never be okay, I’ll never be okay, but one day I hope I’ll be able to get a good nights rest without the help of medicine. I don’t answer her, instead, I finally take the insomnia medicine from the cabinet along with the anxiety medicine and take it as the bottle describes. 

I lay in bed — nakedly because I hate wearing clothes to bed, my body runs too hot for it—her arms around me. The medicine doesn’t help right away, so it’ll take at least 15 minutes for me to tumble off. She’s asleep, she’s always asleep before me, so she doesn’t hear my phone ring. I gently grab her wrist removing her arm from around me and place a kiss on it. My phones on the kitchen counter, which isn’t that far from the bedroom. Our loft is just one humongous room with another humongous room — our bedroom. 

My feet are cold on the floor, my legs slicing through the air, facing the same fate. The numbers not programmed in my phone, I now wonder who the fuck would be calling me so late. None of my patients were this far along enough in their pregnancy to be in labor, so who was it? 

I click the free button on the touchscreen and bring it to me hear. 

“Hello? Dany?”

I haven’t heard that voice in so long. I haven’t wanted to hear, it only brought back unwanted memories. I wonder why she would be calling me, she hasn’t called me in four years. I doubt she’d be calling to let me know what she had on her calendar after so long with utter silence between her and I. Which I admit, was all enforced on my part. My anxiety scatters back into a big ugly giant that I thought I killed when I took that little yellow pill just not thirty minutes ago. 

“Are you there, Dany”, I hear Sansa call through the phone.

I finally find my voice, my throat dry. “Yes”, I croak out. 

“How’s Talisa”, she asks timidly, which only irritates me because I know this isn’t what she’s called me for. 

“Sansa, you didn’t call to ask me how my girlfriends doing at”, I pull the phone from my ear to look at the time, squinting my eyes at the bright light, “1:34 in the morning, so please, get to the point.” 

A moment of muteness comes before she finally clears her throat and says, “Jon’s alive, Dany. He was found alive beyond the wall. I just got the phone call. You’re the first person I think deserves to know.”  
 


	2. DAENERYS

Sometimes  
I wake up in the morning  
To red, blue, and yellow skies  
It’s so crazy, I could drink it like tequila sunrise 

Put  
On that hotel California  
Dance around like I’m insane  
I feel free when I see no one  
And nobody knows my name  
God knows I lived, God knows I died  
God knows I begged  
Begged, Borrowed, And cried  
God knows I loved  
God knows I lied  
God gave me Life

And  
God knows I tried  
God knows I tried 

Sometimes  
I wake up in the morning  
To red, blue, and yellow skies  
It’s so crazy, I could drink it like tequila sunrise 

On Monday,  
They destroy me  
But, By Friday I’m revived  
Put on that hotel California  
Wear my blinders in the Rain  
I’ve got nothing much to live for  
Ever since I found my fame 

God knows I lived,  
God knows I died  
God knows I begged  
Begged, Borrowed, And cried  
God knows I loved  
God knows I lied  
God gave me Life

And  
God knows I tried, God knows I tired  
God knows I tried, God knows I tried 

So  
Let there be light, Let there be light  
Light up my Life  
Let there be light, Let there be light  
Light up my Life  
Let there be light, Let there be light  
Light up my Life 

And  
God knows I tried, God knows I tired  
God knows I tried, God knows I tried  
God knows I tried, God knows I tired  
God knows I tried, God knows I tried 

 

God knows I tried— By Lana Del Rey 

 

“What do you mean”, I sneer into the phone. I’m walking back and forth at this point, hurriedly pacing the cold stone floors of my loft, really. My feet are coming harsher than intended with each step, the stone digging into the delicate skin of my feet. 

 

I’m aware of every breath Sansa takes. I even hear the gulp she swallows before answering my question. “He’s alive, Dany”, she merely says with trepidation lacing her voice. The brevity in her words annoy me beyond measure. I don’t wonder how she got my number, I’m one of the most notorious OBGYNs in Westeros. Everyone who’s someone knows my number. 

 

“What do you mean ‘he’s alive?! It’s been four fucking years and you call me and blatantly say ‘he’s alive, dany’?!”, I scream into my phone, running my hand through my hair, nails scratching through my scalp and I’m almost certain that I’m drawing blood, but it doesn’t hurt so I ignore it. 

 

She sighs heavily. “They found him beyond the wall—well, he actually found them. Somehow, he managed to escape from the wildlings and to Eastwatch.”

 

I shake my head, still pacing. “Ho- How?! They found a body! With his dog tags around his neck.”

 

“It wasn’t him. The tags were his, but the body wasn’t. You remember the body was so mutilated that identification wasn’t possible so they based it being him solely on the tags?” 

 

“This isn’t possible”, I whisper loud enough that only I hear, at least I thought only I could hear. 

 

“It is, Dany, because it’s true and it’s happening.” 

 

“No! No. No, No! No-“, my voice cracks on the last No and I find myself breaking out in a sweat. Even though I’m naked, practically running laps in my living room, and the cold that surrounded me moments ago is now replaced by smothering heat. 

 

“Are you gonna come see him?”

 

“What?! How can you even ask me that? After what he did to me, after what you and your father did to me?! After what your whole family did to me?! Please tell me this is some sick practical Joke that you’re playing on me. Please tell me that you and your family just want to put me through more pain. Tell me, I beg you. Anything is better than this torturous lie.” My chest is heaving when I’m finished, out of breath. 

 

She’s crying. I can hear the whimpers through the device, but I can’t bring myself to care right now. I used to love this woman, I used to want her company, yet now I just wish she’d hang up the phone and never call me again. We’re basically holding the phone at this point because neither of us are saying anything. 

 

“I’m sorry, Dany. I never wanted any of that to happen. Any of it”, She mutters with an apologetic tone. 

 

I finally come to the inevitable conclusion that this is all is real and that it isn’t the horrific nightmare that I have occasionally, because in my dreams it’s always Jon that calls me, solemnly and serenely, never his cousin that held contempt in her eyes whenever he was in her line of sights. 

 

“I’m going to the hospital tomorrow with Arya. You should come with us”, she adds after some time. 

 

“Go fuck yourself.” I sling the phone with more force required to the couch, uncaring if it cracked or broke. I could buy another one. 

 

I quickly stomp to the pantry, I remember that I hid a bottle of whiskey behind the basket filled with unopened jars of Jelly from Volantis. I know, why would someone put jelly in the pantry, but it looses its flavor when refrigerated. Talisa doesn’t like it when I drink anything other than wine, I tend to indulge more than I should, so we don’t keep it in the house. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I bend, pulling the basket towards me. The small bottle is safely tucked into the left corner of the closet. I swiftly stand and untwist the top, flinging it somewhere on the floor. I press the opening of the bottle to my lips and chug it, the whiskey is warm, which means that it’s scorching my throat as it seeps down, burning. I don’t stop drinking it though, because I’m numb and it’s making me feel and forget. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, was to forget. 

 

It comes as a surprise when she says it, I must have mashed the speaker by most. “Dany, just consider it, please. For him. He needs you”, I hear her say. 

 

I tear the bottle from my lips, pondering her words. The phone clicks, she’s hung up. I wrench my eyes shut, downing the whiskey once more. Droplets are coming from the side of my mouth from drinking it so fast. 

 

Two hours later, Talisa comes in to find me naked, sitting against the island, my knees pressed into my chest. I’m cold, shivering. It’s like I’m in a state of paralysis because I can’t move. I’m pretty sure I’m drunk because my vision is hazy and I see two of her. Her face a shifting in the darkness. She kneels beside me, running a hand over my tousled hair. Even in my drunken state, I can see that sympathetic yet disappointed face she’s making. She kisses me on my forehead, and I lean into her, relishing in her comfort. She doesn’t know what procreated this, I assume she’s most likely assumed that I slipped like I often do. I want to tell her, but I can’t let the words be spoken aloud. If they are, that means it’s real and if it’s real that means I have to face it. I don’t think I’m strong enough to face those demons that I thought I caged four years ago. If I’m being honest, the steel encaging them was feeble from the beginning. 

“A late night drink”, I try to joke. She doesn’t find it as funny as I intended because her saddened expression never changes and I feel bad. Bad that I have someone who loves me unconditionally, unabashedly and I can’t even stop putting her through things like this. One day I hope she’ll give up on me and go and be happy, because she deserves that. I want her to be happy, even if it isn’t with me. 

 

“Come on, baby”, she whispers against my forehead, kissing it one final time. My teeth are chattering as she rubs my arms up and down, trying to cause friction. I know I’ve made it to the bed when my knees hit something and she asks me to get under the covers. My face hits a plush pillow and I sigh. Moments later, I feel Talisa encasing me in her arms once more, I drift on not too long after, dreaming of the black haired boy with the sly smile. 

 

I’m on a four way train track, I’m not naked anymore, I have on this big white T-shirt and it doesn’t have that same affect of me. Instead of the void scurrying away, it feels as I hear trains make whistle sounds, and as it nears me, the void is compacting. The whistle sounds like a forlorn call in the night. Trains are coming from all tracks, four of them, and my eyes go wide, unblinkingly even though the bright head lights on the trains are bright enough to blind. My heart is convulsing in my chest and I fear I’m about to meet my end. I frantically look to all trains as they get closer. I slam my eyes shut. I hear something hiss and screech and I prepare for the end, but nothing crushes me and when I finally open my eyes, I’m not on a train track, I’m at Aegon high talking to Missandei and Irri by my locker like I did many days of high school. 

 

“Are we going to that party tonight”, Missandei asked Irri and I, swooping her hair to the side in the mirror attached to her locker. 

 

“I’m down if you guys are”, Irri answered, assisting Missandei.

 

“I don’t know if I’m feeling up to it tonight, guys. I probably just stay home eating a tub of ice cream”, I denied, holding my binder to my chest. 

 

“Are you not up to it or is it you don’t want to see Daario’s unfairly perfect face tonight after the breakup”, Missandei goads with a smirk. 

 

I pull one of her black curls, yanking it hard enough that it hurts a little. “Shut the fuck up, you bitch.” It’s one thing I always loved about my two friends, it’s that we could play with each other and we always knew it was for fun and jokes. We trusted each other that much. We told each other our deepest feelings and desires, with no judgments on anyone’s part. I miss them. Especially Irri because I can always call Missandei, but I can’t contact my brown skinned friend, Irri, from the grave. 

 

“Ouch, your silvered head whore”, she says laughing, closing her locker. 

 

Irri lays a hand to my arm. “You have to go Dany, it’s the first party of the year. Everyone’s gonna be there.” 

 

“Exactly! The first party of the school year! I’ll never forgive you if you leave me to mingle with these air head whores all night”, Missandei tells me with a pointed look. 

 

“Oh, please. You talk to them all the time when I’m not around.” 

 

“That’s when you’re not around by force, not by choice. The likelihood of me inviting them over to help me wax my vagina is unprecedented”, she stated with a tip of her head. 

 

We all break into bouts of laughter at Missandei’s forwardness. “Where do you come up with this shit”, I asked while laughing. 

 

“I’m one of a kind baby, I can’t reveal my secret, now can I?” 

 

The three of us then began to meander down the hall to class. If I remember correctly, it was chemistry because I had this dreadful feeling curating in the pit of my stomach. I had gotten a B minus in chemistry, Ms. Franklin said she’d give me extra credit, but that B minus wouldn’t deem fit to my father so I knew I had to work extremely hard to erase its existence before I applied to Kings Landing university of arts two months from then, at the time. Kings Landing University Of arts didn’t accept B minus students and if they didn’t except B minus students, I couldn’t be one. It wasn’t befitting of my father, so no, I most certainly couldn’t be one. 

 

“Did either of you hear about that new kid who the police are looking for”, Missandei inquired as we walked. 

 

I heard Irri say no before I asked, “What new kid? And why are they looking for him”, with furrowed brows. 

 

Missandei shrugged. “He supposedly brought weed to that football party the other night. I think his name starts with a J?” 

 

Irri stopped us both with a held out hand. “That kid that lives with the Starks now? Jon Snow?”

 

“Yes!”, Missandei confirmed. “They say his mother was a Crackhead and that he bounced around different foster homes as a child.”

 

I hefted my arm around Irri because I know that information hit close to home with her. Out of us three, I was the only one well off. Missandei and her family were middle class, but Irri was an orphan. She lived in a group home not far from the slums in Kings Landing. When she needed new clothes, I’d give her mines or go take her shopping. With the misleading of my father, telling him it was for me when I was really spending thousands of dollars on my misfortunate friend. Something always attracted me to people who were misfits, I don’t know why, but it did. 

 

That was the first time I heard that name in my life, and little to my knowledge, I didn’t know that it would come to cause so much pain and happiness in my life. I was allowed to put a face with that name also, that day, because moments later I looked up to see a black haired boy, with curls cloaking his face, and a little stubble, with a ragged, black leather jacket on his arms, he had a wife beater on so the pale skin of his chest was exposed. He had his arm around some blonde, Val her name was. 

 

Missandei put her arm around me, nodding her head towards them as we advanced down the hallway of Aegon high at the same time. “Speaking of the Devil.” 

 

He had this this smug look on his face and etched into his demeanor, as if he knew something I didn’t and only would enlighten me if I gave him something in bargaining. We locked eyes and time ceased to move, that thirty seconds becoming thirty minutes. He and I the only people in Aegon high for what could have been an eternity. I knew this wasn’t true because seconds later that sly smile he was giving me was replaced by rage intermingled with miserableness as the Kings Landing police hemmed his face into the locker with more force required. His hands behind his back as they struggled to get the cuffs clasped because he was resisting. The blonde beside him is now screaming, asking why are they doing him like this. 

 

And even though his face is pressed into a steel locker, his eyes never stop boring into mines. Those big, doe chocolate eyes. I see sadness in them, hollowness. The same hollowness I saw in mines when I looked in the mirror. The police yank him of the locker by his leather jacket, ultimately pulling me from whatever trance I was in. A sudden wave of self consciousness washes over me and I pressed my binder further into my chest. 

 

I swear I can see those eyes now. 

 

“Dany! Baby! Wake up! You’re having a bad dream.” 

 

My eyes fly open and I blindly bring a hand to my face to find it wet. My eyes come into adjust to the darkness of the room and I can only make out white teeth from a slightly ajar mouth. “Was I crying”, I whisper into the room. 

 

“Yes”, Talisa confirms for me and I can do nothing but bury my head into her chest and weep more because I thought the black haired boy with the sly smile died four years ago, but he wasn’t really ever dead and all the agonizing pain I was forced to endure all these years was for naught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next we get a PoV from Dany and Jon. Don’t forget to comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment your thoughts!


End file.
